Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive, #3)

by Brandon Sanderson

Adolin Kholin in her life was like a warm sunrise.

“I’m here,” Kaladin said, resting the Sylblade on his shoulder, “on orders from King Elhokar and the Blackthorn. It’s my job to save Kholinar. And it’s time you started talking to me.” She smiled at him. “Come with me.”

Everywhere she trod, death haunted her. Every face she wore was a lie to pretend she could stop it. Couldn’t she be somebody who didn’t hurt, just once?

“Was it worth that boy’s life?” Shallan whispered. “I cannot judge the worth of a life. I would not dare to attempt it.”

“You’re not a monster, Shallan,” Wit whispered. “Oh, child. The world is monstrous at times, and there are those who would have you believe that you are terrible by association.” “I am.” “No. For you see, it flows the other direction. You are not worse for your association with the world, but it is better for its association with you.”

“Do you wish,” Wit asked, “that you could go back to not being able to see?” “No,” she whispered. “Then live. And let your failures be part of you.”

“Of course they’re not,” Shallan said, tapping the illusion, feeling it. A sense pulsed through her from it, memories and pain. And … and something smothering them … Forgiveness. For herself. She gasped, pulling her finger back as if it had been bitten. “It’s terrible,” Wit said, stepping up beside her, “to have been hurt. It’s unfair, and awful, and horrid. But Shallan … it’s okay to live on.”

“You will, Shallan. If you do not trust yourself, can you trust me? For in you, I see a woman more wonderful than any of the lies. I promise you, that woman is worth protecting. You are worth protecting.”

“There are certain things I know, Shallan. This is one of them. You can. Find the balance. Accept the pain, but don’t accept that you deserved it.”

“Of course. He’s probably their leader now or something. Storming bridgeboy.”

“I guess … I guess you used to be alive. The others say they can hear your screaming if they touch you. That you’re dead, yet somehow still in pain. I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about that, but … thank you. Thank you for assisting me all these years. And if it helps, I’m going to use you to do something good today. I’ll try to always use you that way.”

We’re entering an era of gods, Adolin thought.

Adolin nodded, then gave Kaladin a quick salute—tapping his wrists together with hands in fists. The Bridge Four salute. “Good luck, bridgeboy.” Kaladin smiled, his silvery spear vanishing as he gave the salute back, then hustled after the king.

“Up the stairs,” he said softly to Syl. “Check for an ambush on each floor.” “Yessir, commander sir, Radiant sir,” she said, and zipped off.

Elhokar cradled the child, who in turn clutched his stuffed soldier. It wore blue armor.

In that moment, Kaladin lost something precious. He’d always been able to trick himself into seeing a battle as us against them. Protect those you love. Kill everyone else. But … but they didn’t deserve death. None of them did.

“Stop!” he finally bellowed. “Stop it! Stop killing each other!”

Kaladin screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. He begged them to just stop, to listen. They couldn’t hear him. Sah—gentle Sah, who had only wanted to protect his daughter—died by Noro’s sword. Noro, in turn, got his head split by Khen’s axe. Noro and Sah fell beside Beard, whose dead eyes stared sightlessly—his arm stretched out, glyphward soaking up his blood.

Life … life before death … The hair on Kaladin’s neck rose. Elhokar started to glow softly. Strength … before weakness … “Do it, Elhokar,” Kaladin whispered. Journey. Journey before …

Lowering his spear, Moash ran Elhokar through the chest. Kaladin screamed.

Elhokar, king of Alethkar, was dead.

Kaladin stumbled along. Though he didn’t appear wounded, he stared with a glazed-over look. Those were the eyes of a man who bore the kinds of wounds you couldn’t fix with bandages.

But why pray? There was no Almighty watching. If there had been—and if he’d had a shred of justice to him—Honor would have long ago purged this world of the fraud that was Dalinar Kholin.

“Someone has to fall, that others may stand.”

Not today. Today he was just a confused little boy standing in Damnation. Today, Adolin Kholin was nothing.

“I survived Bridge Four,” Kaladin growled. “I’m strong enough to survive this.” “I’m pretty sure you could survive anything. Storms, bridgeboy, the Almighty used some of the same stuff he put into Shardblades when he made you.”

“I couldn’t … couldn’t protect them. I’m supposed to be able to protect people, aren’t I?”

“Do you have to talk right now, Adolin?” “I’m frightened. I talk when I’m frightened.”

Elhokar … Elhokar is dead. Little Gav had been taken, and Dalinar was planning to abdicate. Third in line was … Adolin himself. King.

“I wasn’t afraid of getting hurt.” Kaladin took a deep breath. “I was afraid of making someone hurt.”

You’re not angry at Adolin, Kaladin thought forcefully. You’re not actually angry at anyone. You’re just looking for something to latch on to. Something to feel. Because the darkness was coming. It fed off the pain of defeat, the agony of losing men he’d tried to protect. But it could feed off anything. Life going well? The darkness would whisper that he was only setting himself up for a bigger fall. Shallan glances at Adolin? They must be whispering about him. Dalinar sends him to protect Elhokar? The highprince must want to get rid of Kaladin.

Men he loved, killing each other.

Regardless of the reason, Kaladin had lived. He always did.

“I had a splinter once,” Shallan noted. “It eventually got out of hand.” “You … you did not just say that.” “Yes, you obviously imagined it. What a sick, sick mind you have, Kaladin.”

“Which is odd, considering how interesting Azure is.” “Wait. Just Azure?” “Yes. In that polished breastplate and striking figure, with her talk of chasing bounties and traveling worlds. She’s deeply mysterious.” “I’m mysterious,” Kaladin said. “I used to think you were. Then I found out you don’t like good puns—it’s truly possible to know too much about somebody.” He grunted. “I’ll try to be more mysterious. Take up bounty hunting.” His stomach growled. “Starting with a bounty on lunch, maybe.”

“No doubt they’ve made up some obscure nautical word,” Kaladin said. “Everything on a ship has odd names. Port and starboard instead of left and right. Galley instead of kitchen. Nuisance instead of Shallan.” “There was a name … railing? Deck guard? No, wale. It’s called a wale.” She grinned. “I don’t really like how it feels to sit against this wale, but I’m sure I’ll eventually get over it.” He groaned softly. “Really?” “Vengeance for calling me names.”

“Shallan, I killed Sadeas.”

When has any man ever been content with what he has?

“We’re supposed to be the good guys, you know?” Leyten said. “Fighting for a good cause, for once in our storming lives.”

What? Is this not what you’ve been doing, these last six years? Pretending that you aren’t a monster? Pretending you didn’t kill her, Dalinar?

The Bridge Four common room was in shambles, and blood stained the floor. Teft shouted, rushing through the room to find three corpses near the back. He dropped his spear and fell to his knees beside Rock, Bisig, and Eth.

STFU DONT PLAY WITH RN SANDERSON

Urithiru was under attack.

Holy moley theyre cooked

Deep within his helm, something started glowing red.

Ten thousand Alethi in green uniforms gripped their weapons, their eyes glowing a deep, dangerous red.

The army turned and—led by a Shardbearer in gleaming Plate—attacked Thaylen City.

He’d come far in the last half year. He seemed a man distant from the one who carried bridges against Parshendi arrows. That man had welcomed death, but now—even on the bad days, when everything was cast in greys—he defied death. It could not have him, for while life was painful, life was also sweet.

Renarin Kholin was a liar. He was no Truthwatcher.

Unaided and defenseless, Dalinar Kholin stepped into the gap in the broken wall, and there faced the nightmare alone.

The Fused idly brought the lance back around, then fluidly rammed it right through Adolin’s stomach.

NO

“The Words, Kaladin.”